Be Careful What You Wish For
by Moonlight Phoenix1
Summary: A pissed off fifteen year old Sam virulently wishes that Dean wasn't his brother. Unfortunately, he should have realised that there was a genie behind him right as he said the words. Oh dear. Wincesty.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: And so, I come bearing a story! A Supernatural story that is longer than a one-shot, yay! (I hope). By the way, the genie in this story is not really like the Jinn in the episode 'What Is And What Should Never Be'. Let's say that there are different kinds of genies (which there are, apparently, according to some random websites). Most of the facts I use come off websites on the internet, although I do not know how reliable they are, and I have also made some stuff up in order for my plot to work. So please read, enjoy, and comment with praise and/or criticism! All feedback is appreciated.

Summary: A pissed off fifteen-year-old Sam virulently wishes that Dean wasn't his brother. Unfortunately, he should have realised that there was a genie behind him right as he said the words. Now Sammy's left to work out whether a life without Dean as his brother really _is_ better. Wincesty

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Very, very, very unfortunate, as I'm sure everyone will agree.

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Be Careful What You Wish For

* * *

_Chapter 1_

"_Dammit,_ Dean," fifteen-year-old Sam Winchester hissed at his older brother as they ran into the shop, panting, "I can take care of myself, you know!"

"Yeah," Dean nodded, regarding his brother with angry green eyes, "well, the bruise on your cheek and the cut on your lip seem to disagree with you, there."

Sam glared down at his older brother, who he was pleased to have finally outgrown when he hit fifteen. It especially came in useful when he had to talk to his brother like this.

"I was doing _fine_ before you showed up," he said coldly.

"Fine?" Dean snapped. "I didn't know that the definition of 'fine' was getting the _crap_ beaten out of you by three guys, each twice your damn breadth!"

Sam rolled his eyes.

"I had it under control," he said stubbornly, but when he saw one of the older guys pass the shop window, rubbing his head and looking around him, confused, Sam quickly turned around and marched to the end of the small store and into an aisle.

Dean followed him, shaking his head.

"Dude, honestly, I leave you alone for _two minutes_ to go get food, and you manage to get yourself into a fight with three guys that could probably kill you just by sitting on you!"

Sam turned around to face his brother and hissed, "It was _your fault_, anyway." He turned away, and started looking at the food on the shelves, pretending to be looking for something.

"My fault?" Dean snapped. "How the hell was it _my _fault? I mean, yeah, I guess I shouldn't have left you alone like that, but I honestly didn't think that you'd be able to get yourself into trouble within five-"

"I did _not_ get myself into trouble and I am _not_ a _child_!" Sam spun around and yelled.

The tall man in the aisle behind Dean looked quite shocked, and nervously turned around and made his way to another aisle.

Dean shook his head, breathing heavily.

"Then how the hell would you explain me having to rescue you when that asshole was slamming his fist into your face?" Dean said quietly, angrily. He wasn't angry at Sammy, hell no, but he was most certainly angry at the three men who decided to pick on him. He knew Sam looked older than his age, but that was _still_ no reason to go picking a fight with someone whose eyes were so damn _young_.

Sam grit his teeth but kept silent. After a few moments he turned back to the shelves, seething.

OK, so the guys _had_ been pretty strong, but hey, Sam had been holding them off for about five minutes on his own, hadn't he? Didn't that count for anything?

The whole thing _was_ Dean's fault, anyway. It wasn't because Dean had left him alone, hell no. The only reason Dean left him alone was because he thought that the girl at the counter was cute and wanted a private bit of flirt-time so he could get her number while getting groceries, so he had told Sam to stay and watch his precious car.

Well, Sam _had_ stayed, he had waited for Dean, leaning on the car grumpily, muttering to himself about why it was _Dean_ that always got the girls, why it was _Dean_ that got to drive the Impala (he ignored the fact that he was underage), why it was _Dean_ that was so damn cool, and not him.

Sam had noticed the three guys standing near the car, a bit older than Dean, and quite well built, talking to each other, and they had both looked at Sam and Dean briefly, but Sam figured that it wasn't a crime to stand around talking and looking around, so he wasn't worried or anything.

And he didn't get _himself_ in trouble … those guys got _themselves_ in trouble.

"Damn, what a fine ass," one of them was saying as Sam and Dean got out of the car. The three guys looked pretty similar, all tall and wide with dark hair, but this one had the distinguishing mark of a large blue snake tattooed on his arm. "You know how long it's been since I've banged a guy with an ass like that?"

Sam immediately tuned into the conversation suspiciously. He hoped the guy wasn't talking about _him_, because that was just … weird. And gross. Sam wasn't homophobic, or anything, but he was _so_ underage and the guy was just _so_ … ew.

Dean had told him to wait by the car, and had then leaned in through the window to grab some fake credit cards, and Sam realised that the guy that was talking was staring at Dean's ass like it was a piece of meat.

It pissed him off _and_ disgusted him. Dean wasn't gay – not to Sam's knowledge, anyway. Dean had always been such a ladykiller, and anyway, it wasn't even that, if was just this guy, this guy looking at his brother that way … it was just _wrong_.

Dean had, surprisingly, not noticed, or maybe he _had_ and didn't care, either way, he left Sam to mutter to himself about _why_ Dean had so much luck with girls, and had gone into the shop.

Unfortunately, Sam could not be left alone with his thoughts, because the things that the guy that had been checking out Dean was saying were beginning to grate his mind like cheese.

"He looks like he'll be a real good lay, doesn't he?" the guy was asking his friends, staring at the shop door that Dean had gone into. Sam grit his teeth and tried to block him out, but the guy didn't stop talking. "I bet he loves it, he seems like one of those slutty ones that like to _beg_ me to give it to them all night."

His friends laughed, and without even realising it was his voice saying it, Sam snarled, "Shut up."

The three guys looked at him.

"Hey, TJ," one of the three said, "I think you've upset his little boyfriend," and 'TJ', the guy that had been talking, laughed harshly and took a step towards Sam.

"Oh, trust me, that little _whore_ is gonna be going home with me tonight," he said, his eyes challenging Sam.

"Don't call my brother a whore!" Sam snarled, and he stopped slouching and leaning on the car and stood up to his full height, which was a good few inches taller than TJ.

However, TJ was slightly bulkier than Sam … OK, a lot bulkier, as were his friends.

They all laughed.

"Your brother, huh?" TJ said, taking another step towards Sam. "Well, what do you think? Will he beg for it?"

Sam automatically shoved TJ. He was _not_ talking shit about Dean so badly, he was _not_.

"Even if he was gay," Sam said boldly, "there is _no way_ he'd want anything to do with someone as fugly as you," he smart-arsed, smirking.

Unfortunately, he then realised it was the wrong thing to say when TJ punched him in the face.

Cursing, Sam hit him back as hard as he could, and TJ stumbled back. All Sam could think was to get the men away from the car, otherwise Dean would _kill_ him. TJ's friends joined in, and Sam managed to dodge a few punches and land some of his own, but then, he had unfortunately somehow got pushed against the wall, and TJ landed another punch on his cheek just as Sam heard Dean yell, "Sammy! Hey! Hey, _you!_ _Get the hell away from my brother!_"

It was pretty obvious what happened next.

Dean was so enraged, he knocked the three guys out in a matter of minutes, paying particular attention to TJ's face before TJ managed to kick him back.

"I'll get you!" TJ yelled as he spat out blood. "Trust me, boy, I'll get you back for this!"

So Dean and Sam legged it back to the shop as TJ fell to the ground, hoping that the guys wouldn't follow them, or do something to the car.

However, Dean had been so angry, Sam wouldn't have been surprised if one of the guys had got a concussion after the severe beating Dean gave them.

And Sam, naturally, being the rebellious and hormone-fuelled teenager he was, was not thankful to Dean for helping him out, but he was so incredibly _pissed off_.

What the hell _was_ it with Dean? And these _people_, all these people? No, it wasn't just the guy, there had probably been loads of guys checking his brother out, Sam just hadn't noticed, but it was all the girls and the women and all of Dean's popularity and coolness and it just _pissed. Sam. Off._

"Look, Sammy," Dean said gently, putting a hand on Sam's shoulder, but Sam shrugged it off, accidentally elbowing the tall man standing behind him, looking at the products on the shelves.

"Sorry," Sam muttered, glancing at the man briefly and not having the energy to be freaked out about the weird way he was looking at Sam, or the tattoo of a blue snake on his cheek, and turned back to the shelf of food. "It's Sam," he hissed at Dean, and didn't take his eyes away from the can of baked beans that happened to be in his line of vision.

"Dude," Dean sounded annoyed, "what is bothering you? Why are you throwing a hissy fit just 'cause I helped you out back there?"

"I didn't _need_ your help," Sam snapped.

"Oh, right, 'cause you were doing _so_ well on your own, pinned to the wall, getting your face rearranged," Dean said sarcastically. "Dammit, Sam, what the fuck would have happened if I _hadn't_ been there to save your ass?"

That was _it._ Sam was tired of Dean's shit. What the hell gave him the right to talk to Sam like that? It wasn't like Sam _asked_ him to take care of him – no, not take care of him, _suffocate_ him all the time. It wasn't like Sam _asked_ him to tail him so closely no one else could ever talk to Sam out of school, it wasn't like Sam _asked_ him to freak out Sam's friends and flirt with the girls he liked. No, no, it was all _Dad's_ orders that Dean was following, sticking to Sam like a shadow.

Sam bet that if Dad hadn't given Dean orders to look after him, or if Dean hadn't even _been_ there, Sam's life would be a whole lot better.

Sam looked at Dean and gave him the most caustic look he could.

He was just about to say something cruel when he suddenly caught sight of a familiar pretty girl with curly blonde hair standing behind Dean. Claire Hayworth, the prettiest girl in his year, and one that Sam had a really big crush on. He froze, his mouth hanging open, and Dean frowned.

"Dammit, Sam, what is _with_ you? Why the hell are you being so-"

"Hi, Sam," a sugary voice interrupted him and Dean turned around to look at who had spoken.

"Hey, Claire," Sam replied. For once, his voice came out firm and smooth rather than tentative and nervous, due to his being so wound up by his stupid brother.

"How's it going?" Claire asked, although Sam saw her eyes flick to Dean, then to Sam, then back to Dean.

"Fine, thanks," Sam said tightly. The girl he liked was _not_ checking out his brother. That would just be too harsh after what had just happened. "How are you?" he asked Claire.

"Sammy, aren't you gonna introduce us?" Dean's voice was suddenly low and smooth, and Sam glared at him.

"It's _Sam_," he hissed.

"Whatever," Dean said lazily, grinning at Claire.

Sam did _not_ like the way that Dean was looking at Claire … it was the way that Dean usually looked at girls, with a grin on his face and his eyes on their breasts, and the flippant way Dean had just addressed him only served to incense him more.

And then Sam noticed that Claire was looking back at Dean, just as smitten.

Oh, no fucking way.

"Sorry, Claire," Sam said, not sounding sorry at all, and put a hand on his brother's arm, "we've gotta go." He wheeled them around and marched Dean to another aisle.

"See you at school, then!" Claire called behind him.

"For fuck's sake, Dean!" Sam hissed. "Can't you keep your cock in your pants for _two seconds_?" And why did all the girls Sam liked have to completely _forget_ about his existence every time they met, or even _saw_, his brother? Life would just be _so much easier_ if he didn't have Dean _shadowing_ him all the time!

"Jeez, Sam, I was just being nice, no need to get your panties all in a twist!" Dean looked pissed off, probably because Sam had just deprived him of _another_ one of his meaningless flings.

"God, why are you like this? Do you even know how annoying you are?" Sam spat.

Dean rolled his eyes, as if Sam was getting all worked up over nothing, and drawled, "No, and you're the only one who ever seems to complain about me, everyone else likes me just the way I am."

"Well, I don't!" Sam snarled. He could hear his heart pounding in his head and was _sure_ he'd be getting a headache unless he somehow managed to calm down, but he didn't see how he could with Dean _staring_ at him in that way.

There were a few moments of silence.

"Oh, come on, Sam," Dean said bad-temperedly, but couldn't look away from his brother's eyes. "Just stop PMS-ing, man!" When Sam replied with more silence, Dean rolled his eyes and grinned. "Look, I'll buy you a big bar of chocolate and some aspirin if you just quit with the hissy fit."

"You know what I wish, sometimes, Dean?" Sam said slowly, bitterly and made sure his brother could _see_ the loathing in his eyes. His heart pounded in his head even harder.

Fucking stupid perfect cool amazing smart kickass _big brother_, Sam thought hostilely. What did he even know about _anything_?

Dean's eyes flicked behind Sam briefly before he focused completely on his brother. His green eyes widened slightly when he seemed to register the way his little brother was looking at him.

"What?" Dean asked. His voice was strangely raspy and Sam hoped his throat was dry.

"_I wish that you weren't my brother_," Sam hissed virulently, feeling a vindictive kind of pleasure at the hurt look that passed across his brother's face briefly, before it gave way to a look of … pain?

Dean fell to his knees, groaning, and looked up, his eyes full of confusion and hurt.

Sam gasped, "Dean!" and heard something sizzle suddenly behind him.

He turned around and saw the freaky-looking man with the snake tattoo on his face that he had elbowed in the previous aisle smile as his skin turned to flame.

"Oh, shit," Sam muttered.

Then he passed out.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hello everyone! Sorry that it's taken me so long to get the second chapter out, I've been busy with work and worrying about all the schoolwork I haven't done instead of actually doing it. I would like to give a big thank you to everyone who took the time to review, and those that added this story to their favourites and alerts list! I was happily surprised by all the positive feedback, and I would also like to thank Goggled Monkey and anon for pointing out my Britishisms (whoops), which I have rectified in the first chapter and will keep an eye out for in the future!

Anyhow, that's (almost) enough of my rambling. I would just like to forewarn everybody that this isn't an extraordinarily exciting chapter, and it has Sam behaving in a rather slow and irrational way ... but then again, it does have a helping of Daddy!Winchester, so yay! for everyone who likes him. Now all that is left for you to do is read, enjoy, leave comments and criticisms, and look forward to the next chapter!

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Be Careful What You Wish For

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_Chapter 2_

Sam woke up and immediately groaned. He had one big headache. Why, though? He hadn't had any nightmares or anything.

Blinking, he realised that he was home in the small, run-down house that he, Dean and Dad had been living in for the past two weeks. He frowned to himself. He couldn't remember coming home and falling asleep. All he could remember was getting into a fight with three big guys, Dean saving him from getting his face pummelled, and then getting into an argument with Dean over it.

Sam sat up in his bed. Something was different. Weird different. He could feel it.

His eyes flicked to the left.

Dean's bed was made. This was a first, Sam thought to himself. Dean never made his bed. Blinking a few more times, Sam looked around their room. It seemed … different, somehow. Sam couldn't explain it. He just had a … feeling. All of his things and books were there, he noted, and Dean's bag of weapons and their First Aid Kit were on Dean's side of the room as per usual … Sam realised that Dean's stack of tapes wasn't on the table.

There was a weird feeling in the bottom of his stomach. Where the hell was Dean?

Maybe he had gone for a drive, Sam reasoned with himself. With his entire tape collection? A voice in his head said dubiously. Sam refused to acknowledge it properly, and thought stubbornly, maybe he went for a _long_ drive. It would do him good to think about what he's done, Sam thought, ignoring the rational voice in his head that pointed out that what his big brother had done was save him from getting beaten to a pulp.

Sighing, Sam looked at his alarm clock and realised that it was already eight o'clock.

"Crap," he muttered. He only had half an hour left to have breakfast and get to school. Damn, why hadn't he set his alarm? And with Dean gone out somewhere he couldn't even get a lift to school or anything.

Hurriedly, he kicked the covers off himself, stretched quickly, went to the bathroom to brush his teeth, grumbling slightly about the mirror that was so covered in rust he could barely see his own face (Sam guessed that this was the price to pay for having a working shower), got dressed, then went downstairs.

His dad was cleaning the guns in the kitchen, which was a surprise in itself. Dad was usually out, either finding out some sort of information for his latest hunt or training with Dean, and anyway, cleaning the guns was Dean's job.

"Hey, Dad," Sam greeted his dad, who stopped cleaning the gun and looked at Sam with a slightly incredulous expression.

"'Good morning, _sir_,'" his dad corrected firmly, and Sam gave him a weird look. 'Good morning _sir_', what the hell? Sam only called his dad that when they were on a hunt, Dean was the one who usually made their dad feel like the Marine he'd always been at heart at all times.

"Right," was all Sam said as he searched the cupboards for some cereal, although there seemed to be nothing but canned foods. That was odd, because Sam could have sworn there was way more food, _better_ food that people could actually _cook_ and then eat, yesterday. "Hey, where's the cereal?" he asked his dad.

John was still looking at him, not cleaning the gun he had been working on.

"_Someone_ forgot to go shopping for the food last night, apparently. I didn't even hear you come in. Where the hell were you?" John snapped.

Sam finally looked at his dad properly, realising that the man looked slightly haggard, like he hadn't had much sleep, which was more than likely. But what had happened yesterday? His dad had sent him and Dean to the shop, that he remembered. But then they had run into a bit of trouble and … then what happened? Sam couldn't seem to remember, and a strange feeling of something like anxiety started to settle low down in his stomach.

"Plus, what the hell kind of time do you call this, Sam?" John snapped.

Sam blinked at him.

"Erm … eight o'clock?" he proffered.

"Don't talk back to me!" John snarled, and Sam blinked at his dad again. He rarely sounded that angry, and Sam wondered what he did wrong _now_. "Whose job is it to clean the guns?" John asked him.

Sam opened his mouth to reply 'Dean', but John lifted a hand up and said, "Don't talk. It's _your job_, Sam." Sam opened his mouth incredulously, and his dad said, "So _why the hell_ have I been up since six a.m. doing what has always been _your job_?"

John looked very angry. Sam swallowed, as he always did when he started to fight with his dad because, no matter how unbothered he made himself appear, he would always be a little bit scared about talking back to such a great authority figure, then frowned.

"What? Dad, it's _not_ my job, it's-"

"What have I told you about answering back?" John cut him off. "And if it's not your job, why the hell have you been doing it for the past ten years?"

Sam stared at him. He had _never_ cleaned a gun in his _life_. _Dean_ was always the one doing that. Plus, Sam hadn't even _known _about the supernatural when he was five.

There was something really wrong here, and Sam's head hurt.

"Dad," Sam said quietly, ignoring the look of outrage that passed across his dad's face when he hissed, "_Sir!_", "Dad, where's Dean?"

Dean could be an asshole at times and everything, and it was crap of him to just _leave _and go somewhere without telling Sam, but … why the hell was Dad acting as though cleaning the guns hadn't been _Dean's_ job ever since before Sam could remember?

"Who?" John said irritably.

The feeling in Sam's stomach was growing bigger, and he felt goosebumps on his arms.

"_Dean_," Sam stressed his brother's name.

John slammed the gun down on the table.

"_Dammit_, Sam, if you're not going to explain who the hell you're talking about, then you can just-"

Sam took a step back in horror. What the hell was going on? Why didn't his dad know who Dean was? He looked genuinely confused and angry …

No, no, this _had_ to be a prank, it _had_ to be, Sam told himself. Some sort of … dumb joke that Dean was playing on him to get back at him for their fight yesterday … but … why the hell would _Dad_ take part in it?

"Dad, please, please tell me this is some sort of joke," Sam looked at his dad pleadingly. John's angry expression melted into a frown.

"Sam, are you feeling alright? Why _did_ you come back late last night?" John's frown deepened. "Did you get into a fight with one of your schoolmates _again_? We've been _through_ this, Sam, no matter what they say, you _ignore_ them!" John growled. "What if you'd done some serious damage? I mean, what the hell are people gonna be saying about you, about me, about how strong you are?"

Fight … schoolmates? Sam _never_ fought. With _anyone_. Apart from with Dean sometimes, and, like yesterday, with any guys that were dumb enough to talk shit about his brother, because, whether he liked it or not, Sam had felt some sort of obligation to defend his brother's honour or status or whatever.

His headache was getting worse.

"Dad, listen to me," he said loudly, and winced at John's angry expression, "Dad, tell me where Dean is. Is he really pissed about last night? Has he gone to blow off some steam, gone for a ride, or something?"

"Sam, I don't know any Dean, OK? I didn't even know you _had_ friends in that rotten school. Stop questioning me about people I don't even know and just clean the damn guns, OK?" John yelled, frustrated.

Sam's eyes widened impossibly. So … his dad really didn't know who Dean was. This was bad. This was _bad_. Did Dad get amnesia all of a sudden? Maybe yesterday, while Sam and Dean were out. Where the hell _was_ Dean? Sam kind of needed him at the moment. Needed Dean to tell him what was wrong with Dad, and why Dad thought he didn't have friends and cleaning guns was his job, why Dad thought that Sam was Dean.

"I've gotta go," Sam said, looking at his dad somewhat fearfully. What if it was really serious? "I've gotta go find Dean," he said, and started to walk towards the door when his dad grabbed his shoulder.

"What the hell is going on with you, Sam?" John hissed. "Why the hell does this Dean guy mean so much to you? And you are _not_ leaving, you are staying here and doing your job, cleaning the guns, and then we are training, and then you are doing your first exorcism alone _tonight_, as planned."

"What about school?" was all Sam could think to say, shocked. John had promised Sam he wouldn't have to do an exorcism by himself until he was seventeen, and anyway, he'd still have Dean there to help if things went wrong.

Why the hell had his dad suddenly bumped up a full exorcism, to be done _alone_, to Sam aged fifteen rather than Sam aged nineteen, like Dean, who'd performed his first exorcism alone (although his dad was in the next room) a couple of months ago?

John let go of Sam's shoulder, looking disgusted.

"What the hell do you mean, what about school? You've never cared much before, you always said it was full of fuckwits and anyway, I thought you were afraid to do the tests in case you turned out to be stupid at Maths or something?"

Sam took this opportunity to run out of the house, ignoring his dad yelling threats at him.

What the hell was going on? Sam was so confused, and his head was pounding. His dad had a _serious_ case of amnesia, maybe Sam should just call an ambulance? But then say what? 'My dad can't remember that cleaning the guns is my brother's job and he also said that me, the smartest kid in school, practically, hates education and thinks that school is full of 'fuckwits', a word that I don't even _use_', yeah, that'd go down _real_ smooth.

"Where the hell are you, Dean?" Sam muttered to himself as he ran down the street.

He had no idea where to start looking. He'd noticed the Impala parked outside their apartment, so he knew Dean wasn't driving. But then why the hell was his tape collection missing?

Sam groaned in frustration.

The first place he visited, or tried to visit, was a bar that Dean had been going to for a few nights now, but, it being eight o'clock in the morning, it wasn't open, so Sam walked down to the main street, the one with all the bigger shops, looking around for Dean.

Screw school, he needed to find his brother.

Sam suddenly had an idea, and went into the shop that he and Dean had run into yesterday after beating up the three guys. He looked at the girl at the counter briefly, figuring that if she was that pretty, it was most likely the same girl that Dean had wanted to flirt with yesterday, and probably _had_ done, before he had to go off saving Sam's ass, Sam thought, slightly bitterly.

"Er, excuse me?" he asked the girl, who looked to be around his age.

She nodded at him.

"Yeah, how can I help ya?"

Sam noticed she was chewing bubble gum _really_ loudly, and tried not to get annoyed.

"I was just wondering if you've seen my brother, Dean. He … we were both in here yesterday. He may have … erm … got your number," Sam said, slightly awkwardly.

The girl looked thoughtful for a moment before shaking her head and blowing a bubble with her gum. Sam noticed that it was bright pink.

How _annoying_.

"Are you sure?" Sam asked. "We both came in here yesterday afternoon, erm, you might remember some yelling …"

The girl looked thoughtful again, then shook her head.

"Nope, definitely didn't see you and your brother, just you."

Sam blinked. The girl had noticed _him_ and not Dean? That had to be a first.

The girl's eyes narrowed suddenly.

"Are you just trying to feed me some bullshit story so that I'll give you my number?" she said, and Sam was just about to protest, when the girl put up a melodramatic hand and sighed deeply. "I'm sorry, Sam, I told you, you're just _too young_ for me."

Sam scowled. This girl was absolutely _no _help. Plus, she wasn't even that pretty close up. And what the _hell_? Why was she under the impression that Sam talked to her, and, apparently, asked for her number? She _so_ wasn't Sam's type … too obnoxious … kinda like Dean.

And also, how the hell did she know his name?

Sam's scowl worsened.

This _had_ to be some kind of dumb prank, something to get back at Sam for telling Dean what he thought of him. Dean probably got Dad to play along, and had somehow foreseen that Sam would go looking for him in the last place they'd visited and had actually got there before him and had convinced the girl to pretend she hadn't seen Dean the other night, and he'd had the gall to tell her Sam's name as well, just to freak him out even more!

This was low, even for Dean, to do something like this, Sam fumed. Something to try to make Sam _see_ how annoying life would be with Dean not there, because then Sam would have to do the running after him, trying to rescue him, something to make Sam see how downright _irritating_ it would be not to have a big brother, one that was currently trying to take the piss out of him with a fake little rendition of a 'be careful what you wish for' day to show Sam that Dean was so _amazing_, that Dean was so-

Sam blinked, and his sarcastic thoughts stopped.

"Be careful what you wish for," he mumbled to himself quietly, ignoring the weird look the cashier girl gave him. "Nah," he said, shaking his head. "No way."

Without saying another word to the girl, Sam turned around, walked out of the shop, and walked to school, feeling strangely detached from the world.

He was sure that Dean would be there to pick him up at the end of the day, as usual, and then Sam would give him a piece of his mind. Making him worry and run around like that … like some kind of massive idiot. Dean was probably around here, somewhere, probably with _Claire_, who seemed to want to become really pally with him last night, as did pretty much all the girls he ever met, Sam thought bitterly, having a good old laugh at Sam's expense.

Well, Sam wouldn't fall for this shit, he was going to go to school and sit and learn and completely _forget_ about Dean's stupidity until Dean picked him up, and then Sam would yell and curse at him, and then they'd get home and Sam would accuse Dad of always siding with Dean, even in dumb pranks like this, and that would probably result in a fight between Sam and Dad that Dean would stop, as usual, and then Sam would storm upstairs, fuming about why life couldn't be normal and then Dean would come upstairs and try to get Sam to crack a smile and say, "It's not so bad, now, is it?" and then life _would_ be normal.

Dean was so _lame_, Sam thought, annoyed that it took him so long to admit to himself it was just a scheme of his brother's to get back at Sam for Sam being pissy with him yesterday after he saved him.

It wasn't like Sam _needed_ his big brother, really, he was just used to him. And he would show Dean that he could manage perfectly fine by himself, without a lift to school and with his dad pretending that cleaning the guns was his job, and he'd completely implode Dean's pathetic prank _and_ maintain a cool head while doing it.

Because that's all it was, Dean missing, Dad pretending not to know who Dean was. A prank.

Right?


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I would just like to start by addressing Lisa Paris and Anon's reviews. I don't think I've ever visited the website that contains the story similar to this. In fact, I didn't check on this website but I thought that there would have been quite a few stories like this after the 'Supernatural' episode 'What Is And What Should Never Be'. I really don't know what to say (or write) to show how earnest I am, but I do not plagiarise people's work, and if I _did_, I would like to think that I'd at least change the title of the story. I _am_ sorry that me and Lisa Paris seem to have had similar ideas - although yours is more original as it didn't sound to me like you wrote it for a particular fandom, whereas I used 'Supernatural' and the obvious 'be careful what you wish for' theme as the basis for this story. What I would like to say, though, is that I'm not going to go on that website and read Lisa Paris's story, because frankly, I'm a bit scared now! I'm sorry that the beginnings are similar, and I hope that the rest of the story isn't.

Thank you to everyone for their reviews, they were very encouraging. And you get to find out what happened to Dean in this chapter!! It will be explained more (kind of) in the next chapter, and there will be more Confused!Sam. Future chapters will have more detail on how much Sam's life has changed without Dean, because, as some of you were saying in your reviews, let's face it, life without Dean would be pretty damn hard, especially for Sam, with no one there to stand between him and his Dad and his 'crusade'. Intrigued? You should be ... or rather, I hope you are. Please read, review, and above all, enjoy. Constructive criticism appreciated.

* * *

Be Careful What You Wish For

* * *

_Chapter 3_

When Sam walked into his History lesson at ten o'clock instead of at nine o'clock in the morning, the teacher almost dropped her chalk in shock.

"Erm, sorry I'm late, Miss Morgan," Sam apologised, desperately trying to think of an excuse, "I, um … er … overslept." It may have been the most terribly delivered lie he had ever told (though in his defence, he'd only realised he'd need to give a reason for his tardiness a few moments ago), but the teacher didn't seem to care.

"Well, I can't say it's not a surprise to see you today, Sam," Miss Morgan said as Sam sat down in a seat beside Evan Housley, one of his friends at school, trying to nod hello at him, but Evan was staring at the teacher.

Sam blinked at Miss Morgan.

"Huh?" he said, eloquently. _Dumbass_, he thought to himself. The class giggled.

"Well, I mean, since you joined this school, I've only seen you in two of my lessons. This is the third. We've had twelve," Miss Morgan said, her voice quite cold.

Sam blinked at her, surprised. What the _hell_? Since he'd started this school two weeks ago, he had been to every single class! What was she even _on_? Sam had never skipped a lesson in his life.

"But I've been-"

"If I may carry on with my lesson, Sam," the teacher interrupted him loudly, and he felt himself blush as most of the class laughed.

"Hey man," Sam whispered to Evan when Miss Morgan resumed teaching, "what did I miss?"

Evan shot him a surprisingly dirty look and hissed, "Don't talk to me, freak!"

Sam's eyes widened slightly. _What_? Him and Evan had been perfectly fine yesterday. They'd become fast friends almost as soon as Sam and his family had moved here, and got on really well. Why was Evan calling him a freak?

This must be Dean's doing, Sam told himself, not wanting to think of the idea that it could be so much more, his stomach twisting uncomfortably. It _must_ be Dean. Dean must have … somehow … done something to make Sam's class go all weird, and Dad was probably playing along.

Sam got through the History lesson without anything else weird and out-of-the-ordinary happening, only he seemed to be getting more hostile looks from his classmates than he had in the past two weeks of school, and he really couldn't figure out why, so he just automatically placed the blame on Dean.

What was strange, though, was that every teacher he had that day had the same reaction to him being there as Miss Morgan – they had all given him a surprised look and some had commented about how nice it was to see him for the first time that week or whatever, even though it was Thursday and Sam _had_ attended those lessons before, and didn't understand why the teachers hadn't realised. Was he _really_ that invisible?

By the end of the school day, Sam was fairly freaked, and a bit hurt that Evan, who he thought was his friend, and Ollie, another guy he hung out with, were being so cold to him.

"Dammit, Dean," Sam muttered to himself as he went out of the school building when school ended. "What the hell have you done?" This all _had_ to be Dean's fault, it _had_ to. Sam would _not_ accept any other reason for everyone having apparently gone a little crazy today.

He ran a hand through his hair, irritated that the fringe kept getting in his eyes, when he suddenly saw the Impala … but it didn't have a Kansas plate, it wasn't the car he was thinking of. But it _so_ looked like their car …

Well, it didn't hurt to check who was driving it, Sam reasoned with himself. Terence Kreiker, who was walking ahead of him with some friends and was apparently the new kid in school (Sam hadn't seen him before today), whined loudly, "Aw man, it's my brother," when he saw the Impala, and for some reason, the hairs on the back of Sam's neck stood up.

It was totally possible that Terence's brother drove the same car as Dean. Totally possible. Never mind it was no longer 1967 and the car played tapes instead of CDs like all modern cars, Sam was sure there were many, many teenagers who were into vintage cars. Very, very sure.

One of Terence's friends replied, "Oh well, at least you get to roll around in a cool ride!"

"Yeah," Terence agreed, "but do you know how _hard_ it is to pick up girls when they're always into Dean, just 'cause he's _older_?" the boy complained.

Sam's heart started beating harder. OK … it was totally possible that Terence's brother was called Dean, and was older, and drove an Impala, and got all the luck with the girls … Sam was _sure_ that there were _plenty_ of guys like that, all over America … it wasn't necessarily _his_ Dean … Of course it wasn't _his_ brother Dean, Sam told himself, annoyed that he was being so stupid. Dean was his brother and no one else's.

"Don't worry man, you'll show him soon! I heard that Rhia's pretty into you!" one of Terence's friends said, and Terence smirked smugly, and, strangely, Sam was strongly reminded of Dean although Terence looked nothing like him. Sam's heart beat even harder and he steadied his breathing.

"We gotta go, so see ya tomorrow!" Terence's other friend said, and Terence nodded at them as the two turned right and went down a different path.

Sam took the opportunity to talk to Terence alone. Then he could find out why the hell Terence's brother sounded so much like his brother. He walked quickly until he caught up with him and grinned, "Hey."

Terence shot him a weird look and his lip curled. He didn't say anything, but carried on walking towards the Impala.

"Erm, I'm Sam," Sam said, putting his hand on Terence's arm and slowing him down to a stop.

Terence turned to Sam and shrugged his hand off, scowling.

"Don't touch me, freak," he snapped.

Sam set his jaw. What the hell was _with_ his high school today? They were all so damn rude!

"Look, I haven't seen you around before. Are you new?" he enquired politely, although he didn't feel like being polite.

Terence's expression turned into a look of confusion.

"No, _you're_ the new one, dumbass," he snapped. "I've been here since seventh grade, idiot, you're the loser that got here a couple of weeks ago."

"It's just that I haven't seen you in school, you know," Sam tried to say casually. Maybe this guy was behind everyone acting crazy? Maybe he was … angry that Sam hadn't noticed him for some reason and … and wanted to … to get back at him and therefore cast a … a spell on Sam's school to make them think he was a freak (which he wasn't, well, not really)?

Hey, it _could_ happen.

"I'm in your class, dipshit, it's not my fault if you never come to school 'cause you're busy dealing drugs with your freaky dad or whatever," Terence said rudely, and Sam frowned. What the _hell_? First of all, he _had_ been going to school … why was everyone forgetting this fact? Secondly, Sam had nothing to with drugs! And thirdly, his dad was _not_ freaky!

Sam tried to suppress the urge he had to smack the disdainful expression off Terence's face and instead asked in a voice of forced calm, nodding at the Impala, "Hey, erm, whose car is that?"

"My brother's, he loves the damn thing like a baby," Terence said in a normal tone of voice, then snarled, "Why am I still talking to you, loser?" He shoved Sam, who blinked in surprise. "Fuck off to your shithole of a house, why don't you?"

Sam frowned, so Terence shoved him again.

Terence wasn't exactly slim and weedy, but Sam knew he could take him, though he forced himself not to do anything. The important thing was finding Dean and finding out what the hell was going on.

"Not gonna fight back, huh? Too much of a pussy, are we, Winchester?" Terence smirked and shoved Sam again, harder.

Sam finally shoved Terence back, angry, but apparently harder than he intended as Terence stumbled back and almost fell.

Sam saw someone get out of the Impala from out of the corner of his eye, but didn't remove his gaze from Terence, who was glaring at him hatefully.

What a little _dick_. What was his problem? Sam had never even _seen_ the guy before, let alone done anything to earn this hatred.

The person that got out of the Impala suddenly came in between Sam and Terence, snapping, "Get the hell away from my brother!"

Sam looked into the familiar green eyes and almost whooped in relief, marvelling at how he was actually pleased to see his brother, when just yesterday, he had been wishing for his brother to disappear.

It was Dean. _Finally_. Now all this weirdness could stop.

Only … hold on a second …

Dean was standing in between Terence and Sam … but he wasn't facing Terence … he was facing Sam, a frown on his face.

"You want to _not_ shove my brother?" Dean said, and raised his eyebrows in question.

Sam gaped at Dean.

"Huh?"


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Hello all! Sorry for the long wait, but Chapter 4 is finally here! Thank you for all the positive reviews, I'm really glad people are enjoying this story! And from now, Dean will feature more regularly, which, in my humble opinion, is even more of a reason for people to enjoy the story! And now I shall proceed to stop sounding a little full of myself and also proceed to stop using exclamation marks at the end of every sentence. I hope that everyone enjoys this chapter, please read it and tell me what you think. All reviews are appreciated, particularly constructive criticism.

Disclaimer: I do not own the phrase/slogan 'F CK – all I need is U'.

* * *

Be Careful What You Wish For

* * *

_Chapter 4_

"Dean!" Terence hissed, sounding annoyed.

Dean turned around to look at Terence.

"Come on, man, what the hell? Stay in the damn _car_, I _told_ you! Do _not_ get out and meet me outside school!" Terence hissed, looking around, embarrassed, as though afraid that someone he knew would see that he was stopped from fighting by his own brother.

Sam blinked. He'd also kind of felt like that if Dean had ever stepped in whenever anyone was pushing Sam around, ever since Sam became a teenager, that is. He had always felt annoyed with Dean, had always felt the urge to prove that he could take care of himself, similar to what Terence was feeling now, probably.

Sam felt goosebumps on his arms.

Dean laughed that familiar laugh – _his_ laugh – and Sam blinked again.

What the hell was going on?

"Alright, alright, sorry bro," Dean chuckled at Terence, slapping him on the shoulder, and Sam flinched unconsciously.

"Dean," Terence sounded annoyed, "_seriously_, dude, it's not like you need to defend me against _this_ freak, I could kick his ass, _and_ was going to," Terence looked at Sam smugly although Sam barely noticed, "until he decided to stop being a pussy and finally tried to defend himself."

"Oh," Dean said, then after a moment turned to Sam, now smiling, "In that case, don't worry about it, ignore Terence, he's just being a dick!" Dean said brightly, as if he'd known and bickered with Terence all his life and had no idea at all who Sam was. He stuck out his hand – _woah_, Dean was introducing himself politely? Sam thought unconsciously – and said in his charming way, "I'm Dean, and you are?"

Sam blinked again, speechless.

_What the hell was going on?_

"Dean, please tell me this is some kind of a joke, man," Sam forced out. His mouth felt like it was full of cotton.

Dean frowned at him, looking confused.

"Er, what?" he asked.

Sam forced himself to swallow, but it didn't help his dry mouth. Oh. Crap. Sam could actually _see_ the confusion in Dean's eyes. And as good an actor Dean was, he wasn't _that_ good. Sam knew he wasn't faking this, which led him to think, again, _what the hell is going?_

"I swear we don't, uh, know each other well enough to joke around … do we?" Dean asked, looking genuinely uncomfortable, as though him and Sam had a few vague recollections of each other, but nonetheless didn't really know each other.

Oh _damn_.

Sam wanted to smack Dean across the face and yell _stop pretending, dammit, it's me, it's Sam, it's Sammy_!

Instead, Sam forced himself to breathe normally and thought everything over in his head. OK … since Dean obviously didn't know who he was, apparently he was _not_ behind this whole mess, and Sam was forced to admit that there was something freaky and supernatural going here, and, contrary to what he had preferred to think, the whole town had _not_ just got amnesia.

Dean raised his eyebrows and Sam realised he hadn't answered Dean or taken his hand and excused himself.

He shouldn't _need_ to, dammit, because he was Dean's _brother_!

"That's Sam," Terence snarled, glaring at Sam. "And he's a freak." Dean didn't take his eyes away from Sam's face, but he put his hand down. There was silence for a few moments. "_Fine_, I'll wait in the car, just hurry the hell up, Dean," Terence spat, sounding quite pissed, cast Sam an almost disgusted look, for some reason, and stomped off to the Impala, the exact same Impala that Dean drove only without the Kansas plate.

Because this Dean wasn't from Kansas, apparently.

Fuck.

"Erm … yeah, I'm … I'm Sam." It felt quite weird introducing himself to his own brother, as if for the first time, but Sam felt he managed quite well. "I just, ah, thought you were, erm, joking about giving me crap for shoving Terence," he added to try explain his reaction to Dean's extraordinarily polite '_and you are?_' and avoid giving the guy who apparently didn't know him an impression of weirdness.

Dean grinned.

"Pleased to meet you."

Sam almost did a double take. Since when did Dean express such appreciation over meeting new people, unless they were hot girls he was looking to bang?

"And don't worry about Terence, he's been a moody bitch ever since he hit puberty," Dean added, rolling his eyes.

Sam was still stuck on the whole polite 'pleased to meet you' thing.

He guessed that this Dean in this weird, fucked up alternate universe or whatever it was where Dean was the brother of some dumb bully and Sam was the one who cleaned guns and had no friends probably acted so much nicer and more open because he hadn't been brought up to be wary of everyone and everything. Sam was pretty sure that Dean – that is, _this _Dean, the one standing in front of him right now – wasn't a hunter. After all, this Dean didn't have John Winchester for a father.

So how the hell did Sam end up in this world?He was at least glad that his brain finally seemed to have moved on from it's previous loop of _what the hell is going on?_ to _why the hell is this going on?_, but annoyed that he really couldn't think past that question.

"Hey, aren't you that weird kid I've seen around school?" Dean asked suddenly, and Sam thought to himself, a bit relieved, _at least this Dean still has the same amount of tact_ and simultaneously _hey, I am __not__ weird!_

Dean seemed to realise what he'd said as he corrected awkwardly, "Erm, not weird … just … well … you know. I mean, you hardly ever talk to anyone and …" Dean gave an oddly nervous laugh and Sam marvelled at how different his brother was in this world. "Yeah, so, I bunked today, if that's what you're wondering, as I do most days, which is why you probably haven't noticed me," he said, changing the subject.

Sam felt himself frown and managed to say, "Aren't you nineteen?"

Why was it that school seemed to be the only thing he could talk normally about today? He guessed because it was a neutral subject. More neutral, than, say, the subject of 'right, so, yesterday you were my brother and now today, apparently, you're not, and I really have no idea what the hell is going on, but I _know_ it's something supernatural. What do you think, Dean-who's-not-my-brother-or-a-hunter-and-probably-thinks-I'm-a-great-big-freak?'

Dean blinked at him. "How did you know that?" he asked, referring to Sam's knowledge about his age. "I swear you've only been here for two weeks, and you and Terence aren't exactly bosom buddies."

"Er … lucky guess," Sam said, his throat dry. Of course, he had to pretend he knew _nothing_ about Dean Winchester … although seeing as Dean Winchester was apparently Dean Kreiker in this world (Sam tried not to shiver) and had an asshole for a younger brother and was repeating his senior year at high school and was able to laugh nervously and get embarrassed, unlike the Dean in Sam's world, then this Dean wasn't really … Dean.

Sam winced. His head hurt.

Why the hell was this happening? He asked himself again. It was too weird! This Dean was acting different! This Dean even _looked_ a bit different!

His hair was slightly longer, and a few strands at the front fell forward, covering some of his forehead and almost reached his green eyes. Dean, the one from Sam's world, liked to keep his hair short so that it didn't get in the way of his hunting, obstruct his vision, or whatever, Sam didn't really get it, _his_ hair had never bothered him … then again, Sam guessed that he didn't exactly fire guns as much as Dean did. Dean sure loved his guns, but he also liked to punch and kick and beat and set fire to things … not in a twisted, pyromaniac way, but Sam felt that Dean's interest in personally kicking demon ass was his sure-fire way of establishing control over a situation.

This Dean's physique seemed pretty much the same, only his biceps seemed less pronounced from under the coat he was wearing (the coat in itself was not in Dean's usual style – it was some sort of thin, green, flimsy material, a far cry from his normal suede and leather jackets), probably because this Dean didn't physically exert himself as much as Sam's Dean did, what with the hunting and all.

This Dean was also wearing clothes that were quite different from the other Dean's style. Damn, it was weird thinking of his brother as 'the other Dean' rather than the one standing in front of him right now. This Dean was wearing a bright blue T-shirt with the sunshine-yellow slogan 'F CK – all I need is U', which would have made Sam grin if his facial muscles had been able to do anything more than make his eyes widen and his jaw drop, and some loose, slightly baggy jeans that only came up to Dean's hips – the Dean in his world would have given the jeans a dirty look, had he seen them, and would probably have commented on how they would slow him down during a hunt, were he to wear them, as they'd get caught on a branch or something and completely fall off.

This Dean's face was even a tiny bit different, but not in an obvious way. If Sam hadn't known Dean as well as he did, he doubted he'd have been able to realise the small differences in his face. His eyes were still the same green, still had that same bright look in them, full of spirit with this spark of something that Sam only recently figured out was hope that Sam was sure Dean didn't realise he had, and his face seemed to be smoother, freer from the creases around Dean's eyes, and his forehead lacked the worry crease (although Dean would never admit it was because of worry) that Dean had started to develop in _his_ world.

Sam blinked. Damn, there he went with the 'worlds' again.

And also, Sam thought, the Dean in this world seemed ever so slightly more … well … effeminate, for lack of a better, manlier word. Sam couldn't explain it, and didn't really want to, but he felt that it was because this Dean had probably experienced slightly less rough-and-tumbles with various evil creatures of the night than the Dean in his world had, and therefore had no need to act as macho as Sam's Dean did.

It was kind of weird referring to his brother as _his_ Dean, Sam mused, especially as a guy who looked almost one hundred percent identical to his brother was standing in front of him right now. But the important thing to remember was this was _not_ Dean, the guy standing in front of him right now was _not_ his brother, no matter how much he looked like him.

Dean shrugged, looking a bit uncomfortable, and seemingly interpreting Sam's silence to mean he was unimpressed as he explained, "I had to repeat a year 'cause I kept bunking and couldn't be fucked to work."

Sam swallowed as he realised that in _his_ world (it was really weird comparing two worlds), where Dean was his brother, the only reason that Dean had graduated from high school was because Sam kept nagging him to do at least some of the work in his last year, and wouldn't quit until Dean did. It was kind of weird to know that it was possible that Sam was the reason that the Dean in his world had passed high school without being forced to repeat a year.

It wasn't that Dean wasn't smart, because he was, even if he played it down sometimes. It was more that he lacked the motivation to aim for a high level and work towards it, schoolwork-wise. Also, he rather liked bunking school to meet up with girls. It was weird. Sam would never do that, school was way too important for him – after all, if he wanted to go to college, which he kind of did, he had to have good grades, didn't he?

Dammit, why did he keep thinking about schoolwork? Sam should be focused on figuring out how he'd ended up in this world and how to get out of it as fast as possible, not comparing his and his brother's learning habits!

"Anyway, sorry again about my brother," Dean said, rubbing the back of his neck in an embarrassed manner and in a highly uncharacteristic gesture and Sam flinched again at the word 'brother'. It was strangely painful to have Dean refer to someone else as his brother.

Sam forced a smile onto his face and said.

"No problem, De- … no problem."

"Yeah, it's Dean," Dean smiled, thinking that Sam had forgotten his name, and Sam grit his teeth as he tried to remind himself that this was _not_ Dean, and therefore he shouldn't be called that. "Anyway, I guess I'd better go, gotta drive Terence back home ASAP, he becomes a whiny little bitch if he doesn't get his way," Dean laughed slightly, and Sam nodded, the same forced smile on his face.

"Mm-hm," was all he managed to say.

"So, uh … I guess I'll see you in school tomorrow, yeah?" Dean flashed his trademark grin at Sam briefly and added, "If I decide to come in, that is."

"Uh-huh," Sam said, trying to ignore the high-pitched quality his voice seemed to have adopted.

Dean gave him what was almost a look of concern at Sam's unresponsiveness, clasped his hand over Sam's shoulder briefly (Sam sucked in a breath – it was Dean, it _must_ have been, how could it not be?) and left towards the Impala – this fake one, not the _real_ one, the one with Dean's 'brother' Terence in it – got in, seemingly bickering with Terence about something Sam couldn't hear, and drove off.

Sam realised that he was still standing in the same position he had been when Dean came up to him.

After about ten minutes of standing there with a completely blank mind, he began walking home feeling dazed, and the world around him seemed so … surreal, even though it was exactly the same as the world he'd left last night.

Only it wasn't exactly the same. It wasn't exactly the same, because Dean wasn't his brother.

_Wasn't that what you wanted?_ a little voice whispered in Sam's head, and he shook his head, confused. He had a feeling that that may have been the key to everything, but he couldn't quite begin to remember how, and anyway, he didn't want to, he was too surprised by the new Dean's difference to his Dean and so damn _confused_ over whether the new Dean was still his brother or not.

Sam tried to open the door quietly when he got to his house, worried that his father (_was_ this John still his father? Or was it a different man, a different John, because he didn't have Dean as a son?) might be angry with him for running off in the morning.

Just as Sam started to creep up the stairs, he heard his father bark from the living room, "Where do you think you're going? Your brother's here."

Sam felt his heartbeat speed up and jumped the bottom steps before running into the room, his breathing more erratic, thinking wildly, irrationally, _yes, this spell has ended, the madness can stop now_, _Dean's back!_

"Dean, I-" Sam stilled.

It wasn't Dean.

It was a guy of about Dean's height, but apart from that, he and Dean had nothing in common. He had fairly long brown hair, dark eyes and no cheeky grin, but he had … Sam's nose. Sam couldn't breathe.

This wasn't Dean.

The guy looked annoyed.

"Sam," John barked from his place at the table by the window, "where the hell are your manners? Say hello to your brother."


End file.
